Best Served Cold
One year ago today I posted my first story, Bloody Vengeance. Since then I have posted 64 different stories on three different sites. I have started several series, and finished one that I started 4 years ago.
To celebrate, I wrote a sequel to Bloody Vengeance.
I wasn't able to get this to the proofreaders, so it might change, but I wanted to post it before midnight, so it might change.
Best Served Cold
I hear the door close behind me as I look around the room. Cigar smoke hangs lazily in the air and the smell of vomit greets my noise. I have to fight to keep from adding my breakfast to the mix.
I sit down at the bar and order a beer. As the bartender gets my drink, I survey the room. One exit, with a bathroom in the back. Three guys sitting at a table, talking quietly. The bartender gave me my beer and I send it back. I wanted it in a bottle, and couldn’t help but laugh as he drained the glass before giving me my beer, a Guinness. It reminded me of a movie I saw once upon a time, in Mexico.
As the bartender gave me the beer, I told him I was there to see Alex Gregor. He said that he knew no one by that name and walked away, looking nervous.
A few days ago, I had tracked down a lowlife who had information I needed. He knew who pulled the trigger. He knew who killed my wife and son. He even told me where to find Gregor before I threw him into Castle Lake. I decided he would be one of the few lucky ones. One of Giovanni’s men that I left alive.
One of the men at the table stood and walked towards me. I didn’t see him moving; I felt it. The floor shook as the blimp lumbered across the room. My hand went to my Beretta as he stopped behind me. I knew it probably wouldn’t be able to get past the layers of fat this guy was wearing, but I might be able to annoy him with it.
He stopped behind me. I could smell fried chicken and beer on him. He said that they had been waiting for me, that they had found my informant. That he had told them I was looking for Gregor right before they slit his throat. That no one sees Gregor.
I heard his buddies pull their guns, and I dove for cover, shooting Tiny in the knees before I rolled behind the bar. I returned fire, but ran out of bullets fast. Out came the Ingrams, and I smiles as I took off the safeties, but my smile faded when I heard a shotgun blast hit the wall above me.
Why do they always have shotguns and I don’t? Next time, I’m brining my own shotgun.
A nearby beer bottle gave me an idea. I yelled, making them think I was throwing a grenade, and they dove for cover, giving me the time I needed. As they stood, I broke cover and opened fire. The girls started singing as bullets tore them apart.
Tiny slowly got to his feet as his buddies fell. He dove for me, but I fired, putting a bullet between his eyes and dodging as he hit the ground, nearly falling through to the basement. I walked over and checked the others, smiling a bit when saw that they were dead. I grabbed the shotgun as I heard the door of the bathroom open.
It was Gregor.
He didn’t even have time to be surprised as I fired, taking out his knees. I walked over and watched as he lay there in pain. I kicked him in the head a few times before pointing the shotgun at his head. I should pull the trigger. I should paint the room with his brains, but I have other ideas for him.
As much as I want to see him pay for what he did, I’m not done with him yet.
To celebrate, I wrote a sequel to Bloody Vengeance.
I wasn't able to get this to the proofreaders, so it might change, but I wanted to post it before midnight, so it might change.
I hear the door close behind me as I look around the room. Cigar smoke hangs lazily in the air and the smell of vomit greets my noise. I have to fight to keep from adding my breakfast to the mix.
I sit down at the bar and order a beer. As the bartender gets my drink, I survey the room. One exit, with a bathroom in the back. Three guys sitting at a table, talking quietly. The bartender gave me my beer and I send it back. I wanted it in a bottle, and couldn’t help but laugh as he drained the glass before giving me my beer, a Guinness. It reminded me of a movie I saw once upon a time, in Mexico.
As the bartender gave me the beer, I told him I was there to see Alex Gregor. He said that he knew no one by that name and walked away, looking nervous.
A few days ago, I had tracked down a lowlife who had information I needed. He knew who pulled the trigger. He knew who killed my wife and son. He even told me where to find Gregor before I threw him into Castle Lake. I decided he would be one of the few lucky ones. One of Giovanni’s men that I left alive.
One of the men at the table stood and walked towards me. I didn’t see him moving; I felt it. The floor shook as the blimp lumbered across the room. My hand went to my Beretta as he stopped behind me. I knew it probably wouldn’t be able to get past the layers of fat this guy was wearing, but I might be able to annoy him with it.
He stopped behind me. I could smell fried chicken and beer on him. He said that they had been waiting for me, that they had found my informant. That he had told them I was looking for Gregor right before they slit his throat. That no one sees Gregor.
I heard his buddies pull their guns, and I dove for cover, shooting Tiny in the knees before I rolled behind the bar. I returned fire, but ran out of bullets fast. Out came the Ingrams, and I smiles as I took off the safeties, but my smile faded when I heard a shotgun blast hit the wall above me.
Why do they always have shotguns and I don’t? Next time, I’m brining my own shotgun.
A nearby beer bottle gave me an idea. I yelled, making them think I was throwing a grenade, and they dove for cover, giving me the time I needed. As they stood, I broke cover and opened fire. The girls started singing as bullets tore them apart.
Tiny slowly got to his feet as his buddies fell. He dove for me, but I fired, putting a bullet between his eyes and dodging as he hit the ground, nearly falling through to the basement. I walked over and checked the others, smiling a bit when saw that they were dead. I grabbed the shotgun as I heard the door of the bathroom open.
It was Gregor.
He didn’t even have time to be surprised as I fired, taking out his knees. I walked over and watched as he lay there in pain. I kicked him in the head a few times before pointing the shotgun at his head. I should pull the trigger. I should paint the room with his brains, but I have other ideas for him.
As much as I want to see him pay for what he did, I’m not done with him yet.
posted by R.C. at
8:59 PM
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